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section7mfuIllya Kuryakin, since first discovering it, had always enjoyed Hallowe’en. He could happily get behind any holiday which involved copious amounts of candy. What really made him smile was seeing the costumes on children and adults alike. At least, it was until one of his neighbours, along with his young son, showed him his idea of a monster.
“Why so glum, chum?” Napoleon asked, as he joined his partner in the commissary.
“Do you remember Mr Casey, who lives two floors up from me?”
“The one that hates you, and everything he thinks you stand for?”
“That’s him,” Illya confirmed. “I understand the animosity between our countries, but to most people in my building, it isn’t an issue.”
He went silent, but Napoleon said nothing; just waited for Illya to continue when he was ready.
“Casey brought his young son to my door last night, trick or treating.”
“Oh, so his prejudice doesn’t stop him from taking free candy from you?”
Illya snorted. “He doesn’t usually bother with my apartment, but he and his son were wearing something he wanted me to see.”
Napoleon didn’t like where this seemed to be going.
“I opened the door,” Illya continued. “Casey stood there, with a grin I could happily have punched through the back of his head, and said ‘What do you think of our monster costumes, Commie?’”
Illya looked Napoleon directly in the eye. “They were dressed as Russian soldiers.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing. The child is only four, and doesn’t know about hate and bigotry yet, so I gave him his candy. Besides, if I hadn’t, it would have given his father another excuse not to like me.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Tovarisch.”
“In the grand scheme of things,” Illya began, as he drained his coffee and stood up to leave. “It really doesn’t matter.”
Napoleon watched him go and felt a ball of anger form in his chest. Illya Kuryakin voluntarily put his life on the line every day to keep bigots like Casey safe. It was clear to Solo who the real monster was.
“Why so glum, chum?” Napoleon asked, as he joined his partner in the commissary.
“Do you remember Mr Casey, who lives two floors up from me?”
“The one that hates you, and everything he thinks you stand for?”
“That’s him,” Illya confirmed. “I understand the animosity between our countries, but to most people in my building, it isn’t an issue.”
He went silent, but Napoleon said nothing; just waited for Illya to continue when he was ready.
“Casey brought his young son to my door last night, trick or treating.”
“Oh, so his prejudice doesn’t stop him from taking free candy from you?”
Illya snorted. “He doesn’t usually bother with my apartment, but he and his son were wearing something he wanted me to see.”
Napoleon didn’t like where this seemed to be going.
“I opened the door,” Illya continued. “Casey stood there, with a grin I could happily have punched through the back of his head, and said ‘What do you think of our monster costumes, Commie?’”
Illya looked Napoleon directly in the eye. “They were dressed as Russian soldiers.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing. The child is only four, and doesn’t know about hate and bigotry yet, so I gave him his candy. Besides, if I hadn’t, it would have given his father another excuse not to like me.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Tovarisch.”
“In the grand scheme of things,” Illya began, as he drained his coffee and stood up to leave. “It really doesn’t matter.”
Napoleon watched him go and felt a ball of anger form in his chest. Illya Kuryakin voluntarily put his life on the line every day to keep bigots like Casey safe. It was clear to Solo who the real monster was.
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Date: 2014-10-30 01:25 pm (UTC)